


Abattoir

by Cazio



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, Cazio, Dark, Death, M/M, Mpreg, Not kidding, Thorki - Freeform, Thunderfrost - Freeform, abattoir, serious angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 01:37:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cazio/pseuds/Cazio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is the sweetest, most potent addiction, but it is also cruel.<br/>In fact, it is always cruel.</p><p>AU: Loki is the youngest son of a wealthy family of Jotunheim who serves as a shepherd to his father's flocks. When he meets Thor, the prince of the city and land of Asgard, they fall in love instantly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Abattoir: _noun._ A slaughterhouse for pigs, cows, or sheep.
> 
> Note: Trigger warnings for attempted self-harm/cutting, mentions of miscarriage, mpreg, and graphic sexual content.
> 
> Also, not all characters who begin this story living will stay living, but I despise ruining the twists in my stories so I'm not tagging that. You have been warned. 
> 
> \--------
> 
> This story is loosely based off of the biblical story of Dinah, but it more heavily inspired by the book The Red Tent, which was also based of off the story of Dinah.

The scent of smoked meat always lifted Loki from sleep. It meant they had food for the day, that his brothers had hunted well and Laufey was pleased enough to allow a bit of the surplus to go to breakfast. Sure enough, as he rose from his pile of cushions and peeked out of his tent, curls of smoke were rising from Farbauti’s. He could hear her singing of the Ice Winter—the winter that they and few others of their tribe had survived. Now though, they lived in warm grasslands where the land was tough and the sun beat down on them day and night. He inhaled. Boar. Already, his mouth was watering.

Loki was the youngest of three sons, so he was not a hunter. Instead, he tended to his father’s flocks with a few of the household mutts he had trained. In fact, the dogs did most of the work for him—Loki only ever looked up from his books when one of the hounds yelped an alarm of an intruder. He had killed wolves on occasion, but much preferred the quietness and tranquility of grazing sheep than the feeling of bloodlust after tearing open the throat of a creature so much like the ones that had warned him of it.

He was also the one that would marry a higher son—out of the family. This son of Laufey would not continue his family’s lineage, but his future husband’s. Loki did not mind, but he would miss his family here. It was likely his husband would be from Jotunheim, even if the city of Asgard was much closer. Aesir and Jotnar were barely tolerant of one another—marriage was outlawed in both tribes. It was a shame, though, because Loki rather liked their warm skin and golden hair, their bright blue eyes that reminded him of the distant seas he had lived by as a child. There was no ocean within a moon’s walk of where they lived now on the plains. There was only livestock, collections of tents for a few scattered families, and Asgard, which was a day’s walk away.

Jotnar were the opposite of the Aesir. They had pale skin and dark hair with dark eyes, many of which were a coppery brown that was almost red in bright sunlight.  He had heard a few Aesir say that Jotnar had the dried blood of their enemies in their eyes. Loki wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be taken as a compliment.

Loki, however, had eyes that were a striking green, ones far brighter than the yellowish fields that the sheep had gnawed almost to nothing.  They would fetch a nicer bride price, Laufey had always said, and Loki was proud of them. Neither Byleistr of Helblindi had green eyes.

“What? Are you to stand there gawking all day?” Byleistr laughed from behind him. Loki pursed his lips and turned to face his brother. Byleistr was strong and trim, with thick arms and black hair that reached past his hips when it was not in its usual braid.

“Is it so bad to appreciate this earth?” Loki asked with a cock of his head. He was embarrassed to have been caught staring at nothing, but he would not have his brother know that.

Byleister cuffed him fondly over the head. “When there is work to be done, my brother, then yes.”

“There will always be work,” Loki muttered.

“Go on, Loki,” Helblindi teased, playfully knocking Byleistr aside. Helblindi had a far more handsome face than Byleister. More handsome than his own, Loki thought. Jotun women were always staring at him—many said that he could fetch a princess for a wife of he truly wanted to. Loki believed that.

“I’m not going to leave until I have my breakfast,” Loki said, crossing his arms and lifting his chin, a knowing smirk on his lips.

“Oh? Then I shall carry you to the fields myself!” Helblindi charged and Loki ducked away, blinking in the bright sun for only a moment before running toward their mother’s tent. Helblindi was close behind, laughing too hard to get the air needed for him to catch up. Loki was laughing too, dancing away from his brother’s arms and leaping over a goat on the way.

“What are you two doing?” Farbauti yelled, and both brothers stopped dead in their tracks, even as grown men.

“Your Hel child is chasing me,” Loki whined dramatically. “Just so that he can steal my breakfast!”

Farbauti cocked a brow. “Well, both of you come in. There is a boar to be salted and stored away.”

Loki and Helblindi cursed in unison, but went into the tent. There was most of a boar to be salted and while they worked they had the added torture of smelling the freshly cooked pieces that they were not yet allowed to eat. 

 

* * *

 

 

Once finished, Farbauti called for Laufey and Byleistr. None of them were too alarmed when their father arrived with both arms covered in blood that had been poorly cleaned off.

“The first lamb has been born,” Laufey announced.

“And you did not tell me?” Loki frowned, using it to hide his annoyance. His father had known full well that Loki wanted to deliver the first lamb. As a shepherd, it was about the only thing he could do to impress the family aside from murdering an entire pack of wolves.

“One of your hounds alerted me as I was surveying the land. There was no time.”

Laufey hated Loki’s hounds. He said that they were doing more harm than good, but never was able to come up with what harm they were doing in the first place. Laufey wanted massive hunting dogs so that he could hunt wolves and lions and bears with them. Loki had no such dogs, only shaggy ones and ones with floppy ears that were always showing their ribs. No dog had warned him.

“Next season,” Byleistr said, patting Loki’s back. Loki snorted in response.

“What will we do with it?” Helblindi asked, gnawing on a bone.

“I plan to present it to Jör. He has five daughters and a fine son,” Laufey replied.

“Skjoll?” Loki said incredulously. Skjol was a fool—dumber than the camels their family raised. “Do not tell me you are planning to make me his bride. I would sooner marry a goat.”

That brought forth booming laughs from his brothers, who knew it was true. Laufey was not pleased.

“Jör has already offered quite the assortment of gifts should I allow you two to marry,” Laufey said. “I doubt you will find a higher payment.”

“It is worth losing a few gold coins and fine fabric. I would never lay with that hog,” Loki snapped. “What of Angrboda? She is by far the prettiest within fifty miles. Helblindi can take her as a wife and you will keep your good graces with Jör.”

“What, so you don’t think me worthy of a virgin?” Farbauti cut in. “She spreads her legs for any man, just for attention! She would make a horrible wife!”

“Were you listening to gossip, brother, or were you the one between those legs?” Byleistr countered. Helblindi’s face turned red in an ashamed defeat as Loki and his brother laughed.

Laufey huffed once the laughing died down. “It would be more disgraceful for me to send you off only to be divorced, I suppose,” he muttered. “But nevertheless. Tomorrow, Loki, you are to bring the lamb to Jör. Bring along the black yearling and ride him to Asgard to be sold. I have already made arrangements in the city and the buyer knows of the yearling’s color and stature. He will meet you at the blacksmith and pay you there.”

“I was to do that!” Byleistr complained.

“Loki will be halfway to the city already. It will be easier this way.”

“Father, I have been waiting to leave this wretched pile of tents for a moon already,” Byleistr growled.

Laufey cocked a brow. “Oh? Then you will take the lamb to Jör. Meet with his daughters and find one to your liking.”

Byleistr scowled, but evidently the opportunity to leave the household for awhile was too great an offer to pass up, no matter the consequences.

“Now that all of this foolishness had been discussed,” said Farbauti, pouring herself a glass of wine. “Let us enjoy our meal, shall we?”


	2. Chapter 2

Loki was instructed not to dress ornately when he ventured to Asgard. So he wore a dark cowl to shade his face, one that turned to a cloak that fell down his back to help against the heat when it flapped about. A pair of billowy black pants were a nicer touch, but he did not wear jewels to accompany them as he usually did. His hair was left unbraided and his sandals were worn leather that had no jewels or silver cording as they twined up a few inches above his ankles. By no means was it fancy, but Loki thought he looked quite good.

Riding the yearling also made the trip easier. Loki was slender and light enough to comfortably seat the colt, and the yearling did not seem to mind his weight. He was unruly and quick to spook, but Loki was skilled with horses and after the initial bout of energy had been worn out of him, the colt was surprisingly easy to ride. It was a shame they were selling him, for he was a fine steed.

Loki dismounted when they approached Asgard. The yearling was frightened of all of the commotion, and Loki did feel bad that such a quiet animal would spend its life among this bustle. It had been raised in tranquil countryside and now it would be drinking from muddy troughs and would only see grass when it was being ridden to war or forced to pull men around on lion hunts.

Loki spoke quietly to the colt as he led him past the gates of Asgard. A single guard in golden armor watched from above, shining brightly in comparison to the muddy feet and dirtied leather of the people who scuttled below him. Loki nearly jumped when he saw that the guard had orange eyes that glowed as if a flame had been lit inside them. Aesir were a strange people.

It did not take long to find the buyer. He looked to be a man of higher ranking than Loki (though who _wasn’t_ in Asgard) with a brown beard speckled with grey. Right. Loki had forgotten that Aesir could grow facial hair. Jotnar never did and that was something Loki preferred. Having hair on his face would be horrible and itchy.

“Are you of Jotunheim?” the man asked, as though Loki’s skin wasn’t snowy and his hair jet black.

“Yes. I am Loki, son of Laufey,” he replied in the nicest way he could muster.

The man stared at him for a moment, then nodded once. “Come with me and you shall be paid.”

Now, Loki was no fool. He knew Aesir did not like Jotnar. Following this man into some cramped cottage could be walking into a trap. A dagger rested on each of Loki’s thighs just in case he was attacked, but he followed the man. He would enter and buildings armed. The colt snorted nervously, mirroring Loki’s exact mental state.

However, when they approached the building they were to enter, Loki had no fear of attack. High arches served as the entry to a massive courtyard garden, where women were eating sweet fruits in the grass without a care. Some wore no clothing and their pale bodies attracted many eyes, including Loki’s. They were palace whores, obviously, for they were adorned with jewels more expensive than any of Loki’s. Their plump lips curved into smiles as he led the colt, and one cupped her breasts as she sauntered toward him.  Loki’s cheeks burned with shame and he hid in the shadow of his cowl as his guide chuckled.

This was the palace, the home of Odin. Odin and Laufey did not get along, but they were clearly men of two very different lives. No wonder Byleistr had been so insistent on delivering the horse.

“Oh look, Frigga!” A woman’s cry echoed through one of the open-air halls and the sound of bare feet on stone brought Loki to a halt so that the colt could pay attention and see that he was being approached. And what a rare sight this woman was.

She had hair as dark as Loki’s, though her skin was warmer in color.  Her hair was twirled about the top of her head and also flowed down her back in a way that Loki had never seen before. She wore a crown of jewels as well. He dropped to his knees immediately, knowing she was no noblewoman.

“Up, up, Jotun,” the woman laughed. Loki carefully looked up at her, double-checking before finally standing, though he kept his head bowed as a second woman approached.

This woman was obviously of Asgard. Her hair was spun gold, carefully wound and flowing past her hips in gentle waves. She was a bit younger than the first woman, but both were at least a few decades older than he. They did not look it though, but the way they moved reminded Loki of his mother. These were not women foolish with youth.

“He is a beautiful colt,” the second women—evidently Frigga—said. “Look how his coat shines.”

“Our husband’s old mares are pale and plain. I should like a horse like this one,” the first woman murmured, stroking the colt’s shoulder. Her eyes went to Loki, who bowed his head again. “Remove your cloak, Jotun,” she commanded.

At once, Loki unclasped the hook at the dip of his collarbone and his cowl and cloak fell to pool at his feet, exposing his waving ebony locks. Loki kept his gaze on the mosaic at his feet.

“The man who brings us this colt is just as rare,” the woman mused. A slender finger curled beneath his chin and Loki quickly averted his gaze from where her cleavage had suddenly appeared. Her eyes were grey as storm clouds, and equally as frightening. “What is your name?”

“Loki, son of Laufey,” he said immediately.

“How do you stand?”

“I am the third of three sons, Your Highness.” Immediately, Frigga gained interest in him as well.

“Are you a virgin?” Frigga asked.

Loki prayed that they were not looking upon him as a suitor. “I am,” he breathed, then quickly added, “My father intends to marry me to a man of Jotunheim.”

“You will fetch a fine price. Your mother should be proud. I am Gaea, Queen of Asgard, first wife of Odin. Frigga is the second wife and Queen.”

Never in all of his life had Loki thought he would be standing in the presence of both queens. Not many ever had the chance.  “Your Majesties. Had I known the colt was to go to you, I would have washed him until his pelt shone like onyx.”

Gaea chuckled. “He already does.” Her gaze went to something behind Loki. “Thor, come look at what I have brought for you.”

Loki froze, suddenly embarrassed and ashamed to be half bare around a man of marrying age. Thor was well known as the prince of Asgard—he had toppled whole armies with nothing more than a blacksmith’s hammer, or so Helblindi said. He kept his gaze to the floor as he heard footsteps.

“Mother, I already have a horse,” came a voice so rich and powerful that Loki instantly knew all of the stories were true. This was Thor.

“I know,” Gaea said, striding past Loki and placing a loud kiss on her son’s cheek. “But that one is so boring. This one is only a yearling. Train him and he will serve you better than that lazy steed you now have.”

The man that Loki had met at the gate shoved a bag of coins into his hands. With a grateful sigh, Loki stooped to collect his cowl, refastening it with lightning speed and pulling up the hood. He needed to be heading home.

But when he turned, his body stilled on its own accord. Before him was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. Thor had golden hair twisted into a knot at the base of his thick neck, with broad shoulders and arms that looked capable of tossing the colt all the way to the ocean. He wore no shirt, exposing all of his warm skin that looked the color of fresh honeycombs. And his eyes—his eyes were not the color of the sea, they were the sea itself. Every ripple, every angry wave and fleck of sea foam was there within them as he gazed upon the colt, patting his neck and inspecting it.  Loki’s mouth had gone dry and now his legs were going to start quivering at the sight of the crooked smirk on Thor’s perfect lips. He had facial hair like most Aesir, but Loki had never seen it trimmed and groomed to this kind of perfection. Not to mention that he was by far the fittest man Loki had ever laid eyes on.

Suddenly, Thor’s eyes were locked with his and Loki swore he could hear waves crashing in his ears as he stood there like an awestruck ewe in the face of a wolf. Thor smiled at him and every bit of wit and resolve Loki had been known all of his life for, vanished.

“I must be going,” Loki stammered, moving toward where he had come from.

“Stay,” Thor said, and Loki obeyed before he knew what he was doing. “You have brought us a fine steed. It would be an insult not to be thanked for it.”

Loki’s throat was too constricted to say anything, so he just nodded.

“Loki is of Jotunheim,” Gaea announced, pulling down Loki’s hood and stroking his hair. “A rare beauty. Look at his pale skin, Thor. Like porcelain. “

He started to shake, unable to contain his nervousness any longer. Not with such a striking man looking upon him.

“A virgin. And much smarter than any Jotun I have ever met,” Frigga added. “Whoever he marries will be lucky for such a bride.”

“Thank you, my queen,” Loki whispered. “I am not worthy of such compliments.”

Thor took a step closer and Loki lifted his chin cautiously, as if about to bolt. A warm hand came to his face and Loki found himself leaning into it immediately. Since birth he had been trained and practiced in courtship. It was necessary to attract the best husband, and more often than not there was only one chance. But Loki had never actually wanted to court the men he’d been introduced to. Until now, that is.

“Loki,” Thor said, feeling the word on his tongue. “Hello.”

 

* * *

 

With every moment that evening, Loki came to fall in love with the man. Thor was stubborn and reckless, but he was also wise. He told stories of great battles, great cities, and great feats. Loki was given new clothes—flowing pants like the ones he had been wearing, but these were made of silk. He was given golden bangles; his hair was braided, oiled, and perfumed. His body was massaged, but all the while he wished it were Thor’s hands upon him. He had only spent a few hours with the man, and Loki knew this was to be his husband.

They walked through the courtyards and Thor shared his heart with Loki. He said that he had been afraid in every battle, that every city had instilled him with unease because so many were so much greater than Asgard. He feared the throne, his father’s death, and what Asgard would become.

“Asgard will become greater than it has ever been,” Loki assured him, placing a hand on Thor’s arm. “You are reckless and your sword is too swift in battle, but you are wise and stronger than any man.”

Thor laughed. “Many say that I am strong. But yet I am not strong enough to have found a spouse.”

“You will,” Loki said with a smile. “Likely all of your potential brides are too frightened of your stature to approach you.”

“Were you?” Thor asked.

“Yes,” Loki admitted. “I have never seen a man so great in all of my life.”

“Your life among sheep,” Thor teased.

“Better than a life among fools,” Loki countered.

Thor turned then, grasping Loki’s arms and pulling him close.

“My prince—“

“I am not your prince,” Thor said. His breath spread across Loki’s collarbone like a summer’s wind. Loki placed his hands on Thor’s broad chest. He could not be with the prince of Asgard. They both knew that. “I want you to be my bride,” Thor said in direct opposite of Loki’s thoughts.

A grin spread across pale lips. “You are a fool. I cannot be your bride.” He wanted to be. Never before had he felt this much attraction to one person.

“I am a prince. I can convince your father. It will be good for both Asgard and the tribes of Jotunheim.”

“My father will say no just to spite you,” Loki replied softly. He closed his eyes, trying to brand this moment into his heart forever. Farbauti had told him once that she had lost her first love and Loki had never believed that such a thing could be found in the first place. But here he had it. And in a few hours it would be gone forever. “I will have to go back and you will not be welcome there. Tonight is all you will have of me and even that will be cut short.”

Suddenly there were warm lips on his. Loki’s chest expanded more than he ever thought it could, bursting with warmth. The kiss was long and sweet, but the second one was stronger. Loki had no time for softness.

“Stay with me,” Thor said between heated breaths. “For tonight.”

“I will,” Loki promised. He pressed their lips together another time, chasing the taste of he summer and the plentiful harvests and the cool nights when the sky was nearly white with stars.

Thor pulled away, taking Loki’s hands as they headed back into the palace. 


	3. Chapter 3

“Are you truly a virgin?” Thor asked some time later when they had entered Thor’s chambers. Loki was pressed to the other man’s chest, his head resting on Thor’s broad shoulder. He could see the expanse of Asgard out of the massive open window beside them and was watching a donkey cart slowly plod up the street far away. He could feel every expansion of Thor’s chest as he breathed, every beat of his heart.

“Yes,” Loki said quietly. Thor probably did not understand the lives of those of a lower class. Not being a virgin would mean he had been defiled—tarnished. No man wanted a husband that was impure.

“I will marry you,” Thor murmured.

“No, you won’t.” Loki noticed that even in the moonlight, Thor’s skin was somehow warm in color.

“I will have no one else. I am a prince, your father would be a fool to deny me,” Thor said.

“My father _is_ a fool,” Loki tilted up his head to kiss Thor’s jawbone. “My family is well-known among the Jotnar. I am to marry a respectable Jotun. Not a prince. My father will have it no other way.”

Thor shook his head, resting his forehead on Loki’s. “I will give him the greatest gifts of all the Nine Kingdoms.”

Loki chuckled, his chest filing with warmth at Thor’s ignorant optimism. He was something of a pessimist himself, but Thor’s confidence was infectious. If he could have this man—this perfect, wonderful man—he would never desire anything else. He gave Thor a tender kiss on the cheek. “That might convince him. But you should bring my mother a servant. And one for my father, so that his servant may watch the flocks. But my mother is most important because she can always convince my father to change his mind.”

Thor smiled. “I will send her the finest silks and jewels. And five servants.”

“Ah-ah,” Loki tutted, tapping Thor’s nose. “Only one. If you send five, she will know you are trying to impress her. “

“One then,” Thor chuckled, kissing him.

But this kiss was different. Loki could taste the longing behind it, the fear that this might very well fail. Thor’s arms were so strong about him, his body so warm. Loki honestly did not see how he could return home and be forced to marry a man he would never love. Despite knowing the usual turnout of marriage—either replaced by a second wife or a close friendship with his spouse—Loki had always hoped he would come to love the man he married. Now, he knew the only man he could ever love was Thor.

“Make love to me,” Loki breathed. He had decided before he had even told himself that this was what he wanted.

Thor shook his head. “No. This is not goodbye. We will have each oth—“

He pressed a finger to Thor’s lips, smiling as best he could. This was indeed goodbye. “I have met no other man who has been able to take my heart from me. Nor one who has shown me his. I would have no one else.”

 

 

Moments later, Loki was trembling with nervousness—something very unlike him. Thor had led him to his bed—one raised from the ground and covered with animals pelts from species Loki had never seen. He knew this was going to hurt. Helblindi had told him awful stories of men who were taken by force, men whose husbands were looking for nothing more than fulfilling their lust.  He knew Thor would be different, but Byleistr said that no matter what, it would be painful.

A servant woman entered Thor’s chambers at his call. She gave Loki a glance, then left the room. When she returned, she carried a flask of something and handed it to Thor before she was sent away again.

“You are afraid,” Thor murmured, removing his tunic.

“I am not,” he snapped, proving that he was very afraid. He codl not even appreciate Thor’s muscular torso.

Thor approached, gently pressing him down onto his back. Loki immediately spread his legs, though he was still wearing his pants.

“Loki,” Thor chuckled. “You are not a whore.”

Loki’s brow furrowed. Surely this was a way to couple—he had seen his brothers take prostitutes in many different positions. This was the most common. “Do you want me on my belly?” he asked, brow furrowed. Thor kissed him sweetly then, but Loki was still confused.

“No, no,” Thor said, nuzzling his cheek. “You must let me relax you first. I will not take you until you are ready, my love.”

Loki melted at those last words. He looped his arms around Thor’s neck, breathing hard when warm hands tugged down his pants. He had been naked around men before, but never any who were perspective partners. Thor rubbed down his sides one he was exposed, thumbed over his hips, and smoothed up and down his thighs. Loki moaned softly, so unused to any sensations there at all.

Soon, his member was erect, throbbing with his desire for more. Thor kissed his way up Loki’s navel to his neck, then to his lips. Loki had no idea what to do, but when he was kissed he returned each one feverishly. Thor grasped his hands and guided them to his waistband. Oh.

Loki pulled down until Thor’s length was exposed, and what a length it was. He swallowed thickly, not sure how an organ of that size was going to fit inside of him. Thor pulled his trousers the rest of the way off, then returned to Loki’s mouth. They were both naked now, both completely exposed.

“Thor,” Loki said, placing his hands on the prince’s chest. “Thor, wait.”

Thor paused and looked up at him with eyes the color of an angry sea. He had his mother’s storm clouds and likely his father’s oceans all mixed in one. Loki was caught in it, but fear won out.

“This will hurt, will it not?”

“I will ensure that you feel no pain,” Thor promised. At the same time, the head of his length brushed Loki’s, forcing a gasp from Loki’s throat. “Trust me, my love. I will not harm you.”

Loki nodded and took a deep breath. “I will hold you to your word then.”

He discovered what the flask was for when Thor poured oil onto his hands. Loki gripped tightly to the sheets at what he thought was Thor pleasuring himself with the oil. It didn’t occur to him until Thor slicked his fingers in it and pressed them into past his entrance that Loki realized he had not been pleasuring himself at all.

His brow furrowed at the burn in his abdomen as Thor’s fingers began to work inside of him. It was pleasurable, but far more uncomfortable. Loki tried spreading his legs wider, but it still hurt.

“It burns,” he panted, clawing into what felt like bear fur.

Quite unexpectedly, Thor wrapped his hand around Loki’s member. He cried out, arching from the bed. He hadn’t released, but that had brought his erection to a new hardness. Fluid began to leak readily from the tip—or had it been doing that before?

“Does it hurt now?” Thor asked.

“N-no,” Loki huffed, barely able to combat the pleasure. “Thor, I’m going to spill.”

“You will not spill,” Thor said, taking his hand away. Loki bucked up instinctively, searching for more friction, but there was none.

Loki went untouched for an eternity after Thor removed his fingers too. Thor moved over him, meeting his lips again in a silent telling that it was time. Loki let out a shaky breath, but he longed for more of that pleasure much more than he feared any pain.

Thor pushed inside slowly. It hurt, but a squeeze of Loki’s hand paused him immediately every time. Thor allowed Loki’s body to stretch around the intrusion and Loki was grateful for it. It was slow going, but Thor’s gentle murmurs and soft kisses dulled the pain. He knew he was supposed to be kissing back, but Loki could only lean his head back and claw into Thor’s arms until finally, Thor was sheathed in him.

Thor began to thrust into him—slowly at first—and gradually the pain gave way to pleasure. Loki tangled his fingers into Thor’s golden hair when Thor’s forehead came to rest on his shoulder, his brow creased against Loki’s skin.

Soon the chamber was filled with soft gasps, then with long moans. Loki could not help himself, for Thor had found a place of pleasure that he was unaware he had. At some point, his hand that was not curled into Thor’s hair clutched the prince’s shoulders hard enough to draw a bit of blood.

Thor’s hand grasped his member and began to stroke him, causing Loki to moan unabashedly. He was lost in pleasure in a way he had never anticipated lovemaking to bring. Thor grunted with each thrust, huffing hot breath into the shell of his ear that had Loki’s thighs trembling. He could not hold back any longer. When Thor rutted into him again, he spilled with a loud peal of Thor’s name.

Loki was lost in post-coital bliss as Thor continued thrusting into him, but a smile did ghost onto his lips when Thor spilled. The warmth he had been seeking in every kiss was now filing him. Thor slumped over when he was finished, still buried within him.

As the haze began to fade, Loki realized this would be the only time he would ever feel this way—this complete. This whole. He wrapped his arms around Thor’s broad shoulders, feeling the way his hold tightened and loosened with each of Thor’s heavy breaths.

It was quiet for a long time as both men came to understand what was coming to an end. Loki kept his eyes closed, too afraid that if he opened them he would do something foolish like cry.

“I will have you as my wife,” Thor promised. “Asgard will welcome Jotunheim with open arms.”

Loki laughed softly, smoothing back Thor’s hair. “You are a fool.”

“What?” Thor laughed. “Is it so impossible that our people come together? I love you. I needed only hours to know that.”

A grin threatened to split Loki’s face. “And what about the next green-eyed Jotun that walks into your palace? Will you love him too?”

“If our children leave the womb walking, I suppose I will be concerned, but I will love them.”

Loki’s brows lifted, not expecting such a fluid quip. “Ah…Children?”

Thor smirked and Loki’s heart melted all over again. “Of course. If you are to be my wife, we will be having children.”

He blinked a few times. “Thor…I cannot marry you. We cannot—We cannot have children.  We are not even—“

“Stop,” Thor said, pressing a finger to his lips. “Stop. This is not a war—there is no strategy or plan that will predict if we will win or lose. You say your father will never approve, but how do you know? You cannot predict him, just as you cannot predict how I will ask him.”

Loki shook his head. “Thor, you do not understand—“

“Perhaps not, but I will understand in time. I will learn all that makes you happy, all of the ways you like to be touched and kissed and cared for. I will not be my father—you will never have to compete as my mothers always have. “ A warm hand came to cup Loki’s cheek as he bit his lip, grinning like a fool.  “You are my love, Loki. Now that I have found you, I will do anything to have you.”

Loki opened his mouth to reply, but then the chamber doors opened. It was then that Loki realized he had lost his virginity. His worth as a bride was gone with Thor’s seed inside of him. He tensed and Thor immediately moved to cup his cheek again, thumbing at his temple. The servant girl had returned.

“M’lord,” she said, dipping her head.

“What do you want? Why do you interrupt me and enter my chambers unannounced, woman?” Thor snapped. Loki’s cheeks turned hot with embarrassment and shame.

“My king requests your presence at once. I apologize for intruding.”

Loki pushed Thor’s hand away, swallowing hard. “Go to you father,” he whispered.

“No,” Thor said with a tender kiss to Loki’s cheek. It was so touching, but Loki had to shake his head. “I will stay with you,” Thor murmured, nosing at his temple. Blonde hair tickled Loki’s cheek when Thor looked back up to the servant.

“Get out. I will speak to my father tomorrow and I will not be convinced otherwise. Go now before I cut out your tongue,” Thor growled. The servant ran out without another word.

Loki propped himself up on his elbows, intending to get out of Thor’s bed and leave. Thor stopped him with a kiss.

“You promised to stay for tonight,” Thor said gently, brushing noses with him.

“Thor,” Loki sighed, turning his head. “I promised my family—I promised my _mother_ I would not lay with a man until I was wed. I promised them and now…now I am nothing.” Tears were scalding his cheeks and the moment he realized that, Loki pushed at Thor’s chest until the prince slipped out of him and moved off.

It was when Loki sat up that he felt hollow. With Thor no longer filling him, he was loose. A sealed scroll that  had been opened and would never roll up as tightly, one that would always, always be stained with this mistake.

Thor kneaded his shoulders and sat behind him, kissing the nape of Loki’s neck.  “You are everything to me.”

“And for how long, Thor?” Loki snapped. “You are a prince of luxury, a man of pleasure and war and pillaging! I tend to flocks of sheep. All I had—you just took from me!” Loki turned, rage in his eyes. “I am not like you. I cannot lay with whom I please or pay for whores to pleasure myself. I was pure,” he croaked. “That was all I had and I gave in when I knew—I knew we would never be.”

But before he knew it, he was in Thor’s arms again. Thor held him and soothed him, promising over and over that they would be wed until Loki finally had to believe him.

Thor would be a great king. Thor told him of the children they would have, of the palace and his mothers and his father until Loki was calm again. He turned his head up from Thor’s chest after a long while and kissed him tenderly. “Well, husband,” he said quietly. “We have but a few hours left until sunrise.”

Without even needing to say more, Thor turned him over and Loki lost himself to pleasure all over again.


	4. Chapter 4

They slept for only a few hours before they were coupling again, each time more pleasurable than the last. Loki tangled himself around Thor’s muscular frame as much as he could. Happy tears came then and Loki found they tasted so much different. They were sweeter than honey nectar and he could not help but laugh when they wetted his lips. His bitterness left him with every one of Thor’s touches and kisses.

He did not leave the bed all morning. Breakfast was eaten off of Thor’s chest with the musky scent of lovemaking all around them. They were filthy, but Loki had no care. The buzz of love had him in a dreamlike state of pure happiness unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

But it all had to come to an end. Loki had to return home. Thor’s gifts were sent ahead of him, for Loki had to have one last tryst before parting. His lips were swollen as he kissed his husband—future husband—rolling his hips in Thor’s lap. They panted against each other, with Loki’s fingers curled in his damp blonde locks.

“Stay,” Thor grunted. “Stay and—ah—we will spend each day like this until your—“ A loud groan escaped Thor’s lips. “—father sends word.”

Loki craned his head back, the end of his braid tickling the base of his spine. He changed the angle of his movements and let out a breathy chuckle when Thor moaned his name. “And have my mother worry?”

Thor spilled within him and Loki kept him close as he milked his beloved through his orgasm, brow furrowing just before releasing himself, sending white ropes of his seed onto Thor’s stomach.  Thor stroked him until he was finished, but then Loki had to pull off of him.

Thor grabbed his hips, pulling him down again. “Once more.”

“I am sore enough,” Loki murmured, kissing the bridge of Thor’s nose and brushing the hair back behind his beloved’s ear. Thor looked up at him with longing, already missing him. “But when I return, we will make love until I am so swollen with child that I cannot bear it.”

Thor kissed him passionately, tempting Loki to abandon his plans and stay at the palace like Thor had asked. But if he did not return home, his father would assume…the truth.

Loki stood again and used Thor’s discarded tunic to clean himself before slipping on billowy pants and his cowl. Thor came to him and kissed him again and again, but Loki had to push him away before he got too close. “You will ruin these pants.”

“Here, your dagger.” Thor handed him his weapon and Loki smiled softly, kissing him again.

“I have two of those, you know,” he said fondly, cupping Thor’s cheek.

“I know. Can you go with one? I seem to have lost the other.”

“Liar,” Loki laughed into the next kiss. Thor gave a little shrug.

They linked hands, but had to part them before they entered the halls. Thor escorted him to the entrance of the palace where a finely bred camel was waiting, adorned in jewelry and a fine silk saddle with equally fine leather.

“You have brought me a fine colt,” Thor said, helping Loki into the saddle. “So I return, I have given you a fine camel.”

“My thanks to you, my prince.” Loki dipped his head low, then raised his cowl until his face was shaded. It killed him to leave Thor there staring after him, but looking back would be too desperate of him. So he held tight to his dagger instead and a small smile remained on his lips as he rode, not once stopping—not even when night fell.

 

* * *

  

When he arrived at his home, it was clear that Thor’s gifts were still being enjoyed. Torches were burning bright and the carts of jewels and fabrics were sitting outside his father’s tent. Five new donkeys, four new oxen, and a well-bred dappled grey stallion stood proudly at the hitching posts as if they knew they had lived in a palace.

What Loki hadn’t expected to hear was shouting. He quietly dismounted and approached the tent, listening quietly from outside.

“This prince of Asgard insults us, Father,” Helblindi was saying.

“He has defiled Loki!” Byleistr added with a shout.

Loki froze. How had they found out so quickly? None in the palace had even known.

“And Odin himself acknowledged that,” Laufey said gruffly. Loki’s brow furrowed. Thor had spoken to his father that morning in between couplings, but evidently he had ridden out to his father’s tents. He must have been on the swifted steed in the Nine.

“I will kill Thor myself,” Helblindi snarled. “And marry that servant girl who saved our family name.”

The servant girl. The one who had given Thor the oil and who had interrupted them. Somehow, that must have been the servant sent to his mother. Loki covered his mouth, eyes wide. It could not be true. He entered the tent before he could think against it.

“Father,” he said upon entry. “Thor has done nothing.”

Laufey’s eyes narrowed at him, but Loki was soon engulfed in two pairs of arms as his brothers hugged him.

“Gods, what has happened to you? Why did you not come home? This prince did not hold you captive, did he?” Byleistr asked, smoothing Loki’s hair.

“No,” Loki said, shoving them away. “I found my husband. The prince of Asgard wants me as his bride.”

“As we have heard,” Laufey grunted. “But we have also heard you are no longer a virgin either.”

Loki set his jaw.

“Loki, no,” Farbauti gasped, but Loki held his father’s gaze.

“I am not ashamed.” Loki lifted his chin. “I suppose the servant girl told you he dragged me into his chambers and raped me.”

“She said you were frightened,” Byleistr said.

“I was,” Loki replied. “But not because I was being forced. I have chosen the prince of Asgard as my husband. Are you not proud? I have been likewise chosen by him—the man of the highest power within the next hundred miles aside from Odin himself.”

“And if I allow you this husband, I will be announcing to all of Jotunheim and all of Asgard that I am a man who allows my son to be defiled by an Aesir and then taken as his spouse!” Laufey shouted.

“I love him,” Loki announced, louder than he had ever spoken to his father. The room went quiet. “I love him,” he repeated, quieter. “It was not about being defiled or slandering the family name.  I knew within a breath after meeting him that I would spend my life with no one else.”

“I would do well to throttle you,” Laufey spat.

Loki jumped when a slender hand was placed on his shoulder. “My son has fallen in love, dear Laufey,” Farbauti murmured. “I remember a man who pined after me when I was but a young maid.”

“Farbauti,” Laufey warned amidst the snickers from Helblindi and Byleistr.

She smiled at her husband.  “Odin sent us far more than you ever expected to receive as a bride price. The great king even visited in person. Let Loki have his marriage while we feast on the bounty he has brought us.” She pulled down Loki’s cowl and kissed his cheek. The snickering stopped when Loki removed his cowl completely.

“Loki!” Byleistr exclaimed.

He looked to where they were staring and a dark mark adorned his collarbone where Thor had given him a particularly passionate kiss. His brothers were fuming and Laufey was furious—Loki could see it in their eyes. Only Farbauti was uncaring.

“Loki will marry Thor,” Farbauti said.

“You have no say,” Laufey snapped.

“Oh? Yet who has had you moaning my name within moments of entering your tent? Who had you begging on my father’s mats for my hand?”

Laufey lowered his gaze, but Loki’s brothers still looked enraged.

“Now, Loki,” Farbauti murmured, turning him to face her. “Wash tonight. Perfume yourself in Jotun oils. Dress in our jewelry. I will have your father send a messenger on our fastest steed and your husband will await your arrival.” She had tears in her eyes and soon Loki did too.

“Thank you, mother,” he blubbered, hugging her close.

“I know what it is to love,” Farbauti soothed. “I would be a terrible mother if I did not allow you this.”

“There will be conditions,” Laufey said. “Asgard will know it has wronged us.”

“Killing Thor would be the only punishment worthy,” Helblindi snarled. Of all three brothers, he had the worst temper. 

“Thor and his father will come here and discuss the terms of the marriage. I despise the city and will not travel there,” said Laufey.

“Thor will come,” Loki said with a nod. “He will do anything you ask.”

“Let us hope so.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Thor arrived the day after Laufey sent their messenger, with Odin and a troop of the palace guards. Gifts were piled high in the accompanying carts and chariots, jewels and gold gleaming in the sun’s bright rays long before they arrived at the hitching posts. Thor was a beacon of golden beauty from where he stood in his chariot, his long hair freshly washed and helping to exude his strength. Odin did not look pleased and it became clear that Laufey had insulted him when the first batch of gifts had been bestowed.

But Loki had no care for that, only for Thor as he stepped from his chariot and came to Loki. They linked hands and Loki could only laugh as his cheeks grew hot at the very sight of his future husband.

“Loki,” Thor murmured. “Are you well? I will slay this woman who has exposed this. I cannot forgive myself for the shame I must have caused you.”

“Be quiet, my love,” Loki said gently. “You are forgiven and we are to be wed this day.”

Thor smiled and Loki knew he wanted to kiss him, but holding hands before being wed was risky enough.

They feasted on fresh ham, vegetables, and freshly picked fruits from Laufey’s fields. Odin’s servants danced for them and sang songs of praise for the coming wedding, and even Laufey gave a nod of approval. Whores that Loki recognized from the courtyards were lent to his brothers, who eagerly retreated to their tents with throngs of them. Thankfully, the celebrating was loud enough that only a few impassioned cries reached the table. Loki glanced to his betrothed and squeezed his hand. Soon they would be the ones lost to passion.

“You informed us that you had terms for this marriage,” Odin said after a third chalice of wine.

“I do,” Laufey replied. “If your son is to have mine, all of Asgard must pay for what has been done to him.”

Odin set his jaw, but Thor agreed. “I will do anything you ask, Laufey,”

Laufey’s eyes flashed. “You and every man of Asgard will cut your hair until it no longer rests on nor touches your shoulders.”

Loki’s nostrils flared. Everyone knew that Aesir with long hair were the most powerful. Those who had the longest hair had lived the longest.

“Give me shears and I shall cut it before you,” Thor said without a hint of malice. “And when I return home, all the men of Asgard will no longer have hair of length.”

“I will send Helblindi and Byleister in a week’s time. Should they see any men without this mark, then you will give us anything we ask for.”

Odin moved to bite out a reply, but Thor held up a hand. “It will be done. You have my word.”

A twisted grin came to Laufey’s face. Shears were brought out and Thor cut his beautiful locks to an inch above his shoulder. Odin followed after and soon all of the male servants they had brought were also sporting shorter hair. Loki and Thor were wed shortly after and finally Loki was permitted to go with his new husband. Farbauti embraced him tearfully before he departed.

“Do not forget your mother, Loki,” she whispered, wiping her tears.

“Never,” he promised, kissing her forehead. “You have given me all I have ever wanted, mother. You are free to come to the palace whenever you wish and when I bear children you may even come to live there if you please.”

She shook her head as Loki knew she would. She could never leave Laufey’s side. “I will visit, but not for a time. Your brothers are still enraged.”

Loki sighed, but he was too happy to be angry. “They will come around. Now you take care, mother. I will see you soon.” They embraced again, tighter than before, then he returned to Thor, stroking his husband’s now-shorter hair.

“You still look striking,” Loki purred.

“You even more than before,” Thor said, pressing their lips together. They stepped into Thor’s chariot together and Loki waved to his family in farewell until they were all specks in the distant grasslands. He rested his head on Thor’s shoulder and his husband took his hand, squeezing tightly. He had done his family well and covered his stains. Now Jotnar and Aesir would be free to marry if they so pleased. That alone was good enough for him.

“Will we stop for the night?” he asked, eyeing the darkening sky.

“Whatever you wish to do,” Thor murmured, nosing his temple. Loki smiled up at him, then turned a bit to place a hand on Thor’s chest.

“I would like to stretch my legs.” Loki gave his husband a sly grin and Thor laughed outright.

“I shall see that you do.”

 

* * *

 

The tents were set up and before the animals were even properly tied for the night, Loki was on his hands and knees, rocking back into Thor’s thrusts. Now that Loki had been given a taste of coupling, he never wanted to stop. The days he had waited for Thor to arrive had been filled with imaginings and remembrance of what had occurred in the palace, but no amount of imagining could compare to what it truly felt like to be stretched and filled so completely.

Thor grunted harshly above him, grabbing Loki’s hips and yanking him back into each rut. The head of Thor’s length was only just brushing his point of pleasure—it was not enough to have Loki spilling yet.

“More,” he panted, reaching back to claw at Thor’s thigh.

A firm hand pushed down on his shoulders until Loki was on his elbows. He arched his back, moaning loud and low. Thor was closer, but not reaching where he needed to. Loki tried to stroke himself, but the waves of pleasure bombarding him made it impossible to do so enough.

Thor’s hands left his hips and Loki groaned when the thrusting slowed to almost nothing. “Please,” he begged. “Love, I need much—“ He was cut off with a cry as Thor pulled his thighs apart as far as they would spread.

His spine curved inward when Thor sat up again. When he began to thrust, Loki screamed with satisfaction because Thor had hit and exceeded his mark. Long pale fingers twisted into the furs at his hands and Loki came with another scream of Thor’s name a few moments later, then rode out the pleasure-pain until Thor’s hot seed was filling him. Loki prayed it would quicken and give them a child.

He was gasping into the furs for minutes longer, pulsating with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Thor kissed up his spine for some time and when he began nibbling at Loki’s neck, it was clear he was ready to make love again.

“You are insatiable,” Loki panted with a grin.

“You make me insatiable,” Thor growled into the back of his ear.

“It is a good thing I want to be brimming with your seed by morning,” Loki purred. He sat up, rubbing against his husband before turning to face him. Loki’s slender legs twined about his husband’s waist before he pulled himself up, looping his arms around Thor’s neck as his husband sat back.

“Again,” Loki finally agreed, and Thor was buried in him once more.

 

 

Their entire night was tryst after tryst. They rested, talked quietly to one another about things, then Thor would enter him again and Loki would moan softly. They made love on the furs, against the tent posts, even in the pile of silk cushions that Loki’s mother had sent with him.

By morning, Loki was thoroughly sated and bubbly with post-coital bliss. His hair was mussed, his legs still trembling, and his entrance was indeed brimming with Thor’s seed. Thor sat him in a cart that he filled with silks and pillows to save him from standing in a chariot. Loki kissed him as many times as he could until Odin had to forcibly pull his son from the cart lest they start coupling in front of their caravan. Loki shaded himself with a silk sheet and closed his legs, hoping to hold Thor’s seed inside him for a better chance at a child.

Once the cart was steadily rocking, Loki fell asleep and did not wake until Thor was kissing him awake to tell him they had arrived back at the palace.


	6. Chapter 6

For the next seven days, Loki never left the bedchamber. Thor only left when he had to, which was seldom. They slept tangled up in each other, white and gold limbs creating odd lumps beneath the thick furs that they were very rarely sleeping under. Of course, Loki could only be taken so many times before he became too sore, but then Thor massaged him for hours until he was ready again. One day, they drank sweet tea—a kind of tea Loki had never tasted before. It was like drinking nectar. Thor told him it was made with sugar and Loki nearly spit it all out on his lap. Sugar was too rare a luxury even for his father’s family, but Asgard seemed to have an endless supply, for Loki drank cup after cup and was never once denied.

He learned Thor’s body as Thor learned his. While his husband slept, Loki traced his chest and prodded the muscle that seemed too perfect to be real. He also learned the sounds of Thor’s utmost pleasure, and the little jerk of his hips that signaled he was going to spill. The taste of Thor’s seed was almost always on his lips, but Loki preferred when Thor was inside of him to improve his chances of conception. He wanted Thor’s child to come as soon as possible.

When they finally did leave the bedchamber, Loki dressed head to toe in jewels and silk.  He met the other royals in the palace and kept his arm linked with his husband’s. Thor told him of how his father’s father had fought against Loki’s own ancestors for the land and that was why there was such a deep dislike between the two of them. Loki noticed that every man he had seen now had shorter hair. His father would be pleased.

Loki’s brothers visited and they were shown the highest honors, but it was clear they despised Thor. Word had spread of Loki lying with the prince and Jotnar were threatening not to hold true to the truce. Odin assured them all that so long as Laufey was in agreement, Jotunheim would be too. When Loki spoke to Helblindi and Byleistr in private, he begged then not to be so rude. This was his family now and disgracing it was disgracing Loki.

“You disgraced us first,” Helblindi had quipped.

That night was the second time Thor had ever seen him cry. 

 

* * *

 

 

A moon later and Loki had a slight swell to his belly. He woke each morning to kisses and ended each night sated beside his husband. When Thor returned from the sparring arena covered in a sheen of sweat, there was barely time to remove their clothing before they were rutting.

“Where are the guards?” Loki asked one night against Thor’s lips. He moaned low when there was a firm nip to his neck.

“The armies have left for Vanaheim. The palace guards watch the gates now. Our—“ Loki’s moan cut him off as Thor sheathed himself in his husband. “Our remaining—ah—troops must defend the city.”

A side effect of Loki’s early pregnancy was that he spilled far too early. They had barely started when Thor brushed his prostate and Loki cried out and released, slumping into Thor’s shoulder until Thor laid him down on the bed. Loki winced from over sensitivity, but held onto the sheets for a few minutes more until Thor’s seed filled him again.

“This is just the beginning. Soon I will spill just from kissing you,” Loki groaned, placing a hand over his belly. They had not announced the pregnancy yet and Thor was even hesitant that it was really a child, but Loki could feel the beginnings of life stirring within him.

“I will find other ways to spend myself when it becomes too much for you,” Thor promised, kissing him sweetly.

“Not with whores, I hope,” Loki said with the hint of a smile.

“Nonsense,” Thor slurred, pulling out of him.

Loki clenched longingly, but he doubted he could handle any more this night. “I love you,” he breathed.

“I love you more than anything else,” Thor whispered into the shell of his ear. “Together we will lead Asgard to a new Golden Age.”

“If you can find a moment to stop breeding me,” Loki laughed.

“We make plenty of important decisions while coupling,” Thor chuckled, giving him a loud kiss on the cheek. Loki playfully swatted him away.

“Oaf.”

“Your oaf,” said Thor, nuzzling him.

A distinct warmth filled his chest that Loki had only ever felt around this man. He carded his fingers through Thor’s hair and kissed his forehead. How lucky he was to have this man. His Thor. His perfect prince. He would be a perfect father too—Loki saw the way he taught young boys to spar and the jovial laugh he always gave when they succeeded and grinned back at him. Loki wanted to hear that daily, to have their children weaving around between their legs as they strode through the palace corridors together.

“How many children will we have?” he asked quietly, gazing out the airy windows at the city beyond.

“Hundreds,” Thor said, kissing his jaw and looping an arm around him.

Loki laughed when he was tugged to his husband’s chest.  “I cannot be pregnant forever, darling.”

“We can have as many children as you want then,” Thor offered.

Loki pretended to think on it. “All right. How about five?”

“Five,” Thor repeated. “Then will we stop making love?”

“Hmm…ten.”

“Deal.” Thor rolled him onto his back and kissed him full on the mouth. “Ten children.

Loki chuckled into the kiss, snaking his arms around his husband’s neck as they shared a few more. But it was time for bed and Loki needed sleep.  There was a child inside of him now and he wanted it to survive.

“Time for sleeping,” Loki purred, burying his face in Thor’s chest.

“Fine, fine,” Thor rumbled. He pulled the sheets over them and snuggled against Loki. Of course, they shared a few more sweet kisses before truly sleeping, but they did both drift off rather quickly. Lovemaking was tiring.

 

 

Loki dreamed of the future. Thor as king and Loki as the sole reigning queen. The crown atop his head was made of ice stones, inlaid with the finest jewels from purple amethyst to deep, rich emeralds to match his eyes.  His pale body was dripping in gold and silver as he walked the empty palace, arm linked with Thor’s. They spoke like they had when they first met: about the seasons, their families, their greatest adventures. When he glanced down, he saw that he was very heavy with child and that made him happy.

As it turned out, they already had children. Four little boys rounded the corner in front of them, the eldest with lanky limbs and a tall frame he had yet to grow into, with golden hair like his father. The next two were evidently twins, still chubby with baby fat, which looked strange when they sported Loki’s ebony locks. The fourth was stumbling, clearly too small to keep up.

Thor scooped up the fourth child and Loki drew closer to gaze upon him when all of the sudden, the child melted away into a dark puddle on the floor. Loki gasped, but Thor didn’t seem alarmed. Loki stared at the puddle and found it was spreading, swallowing him up and filling the entire courtyard in honey-thick liquid. He screamed for Thor, but all he could see was his husband’s mop of blonde hair being sucked under the surface.

 

* * *

 

 

Loki woke to silence. The room was unbearably hot and he still felt sticky from his dream. The room was too black for him to see anything—not even his husband’s face. The stillness was disturbing, but Loki could not place why.

“Thor,” he whispered.

No answer, not even a stir. Not even a—

Loki froze upon realizing that the room was silent because Thor was not breathing.  He sat up and found that he really was sticky. Liquid was running down his sides, covering his arm and trickling into his navel. He reached over and lit a match, tossing it in the lamp beside their bed.

Then he started to scream.

Thor’s neck had been slit in his sleep. The sticky liquid was his husband’s blackish red blood that had pooled into the dips of the mattress into little black lakes.

“Thor!” he screamed, terrified. He cupped his husband’s lolled head in his hands, begging him to still be living. “Thor, hear me! Wake up! Wake up!” But Thor’s eyes remained peacefully shut.  Loki begged him to come back and threw himself over his husband’s chest, sobbing between his anguished wailing. This was the man he loved—the one he was to spend the rest of his life with. They loved each other so completely, so perfectly. Thor would do anything for him and Loki for Thor. And now Thor was dead.

They had ten children that needed to be born. A kingdom to rule, a marriage to grow into and blossom in their love for one another. No man or woman had ever stirred Loki’s heart in such a way. Thor could not be dead, he was not allowed to have died! There had not even been a warning.

Loki was distantly aware of shouting but he clawed his husband close, gasping out breaths between screams and sobs. Thor’s skin started to lose its glow, his lips were growing colder each time Loki kissed them in hopes of waking his beloved from death.

“Darling, darling,” he whispered, smoothing back Thor’s hair. “Come back.” His lips were sticking together from the salt of his tears. “Come back to me and we will leave here. We will run and have our children, make love at all hours. You would like that, would you not? Then do not leave.” He sobbed then, burning his face into Thor’s chest, trying not to vomit at the overwhelming stench of blood and death.  “You cannot leave! You cannot love me from where you are now! How dare you—“

Two pairs of hands grabbed him. Loki screamed, high-pitched shrieks echoed off of the chamber walls as he clawed at Thor’s body, dragging him a little ways down the bed before Loki’s hands were torn away. Helblindi’s hands.

Rage did not begin to describe his fury then. Loki attacked, using teeth, nails, fists and feet to try and murder his kin, but Byleister held him back.

“You!” Loki screamed. “You have destroyed me! You have cursed me—you killed him!”

Byleistr tossed Loki over his shoulder and Loki wailed as he watched his husband begin to disappear from him. He would never see Thor again, not once more in his life and his brothers were taking him away.  Loki cursed them both, their family—anyone he could. His Thor was gone and now he was completely alone.

It wasn’t until they were outside of the palace gates that Loki realized it had been his belly bouncing against his brother’s shoulder. His delicate child had just been pummeled and his husband’s throat slit. All of Loki’s being had been ripped away.


	7. Chapter 7

That night, Loki became despondent. He lay in a small tent still half covered in his beloved’s blood, curled in the tightest ball he could force himself into. He shook from the cold, but did not move to cover his still-naked body. His baby was dead, he could feel it.  Where had once been an almost imperceptible hum of life in his belly, it was still. Thor was an only son, and there was no line of Odin unless Odin took a younger wife.

“Loki, please do not weep.” He flinched at the sound of Thor’s voice in his ear. It wasn’t really Thor, his Thor was dead.

“Leave me,” he whispered. “Leave me be.”

“No, my love,” Thor said quietly and Loki felt a wash of warm breath on his back.

“You are just a trick of my mind. My husband is dead.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “My husband is dead and our child is dead and soon I too will be gone from this earth.”

Thor settled beside him and Loki immediately leaned back into his husband’s chest and began to sob again. Thor’s arms wrapped tightly around him and Loki swore this was all just a dream and that he would wake up beside his husband and all of this would be over. Thor would soothe him until he was no longer afraid and then they would make love and Loki would forget about everything but his pleasure, as short-lived as it would be.

“Why do you haunt me?” he asked, turning his face into the mat beneath him. “Your body is cold. Death has you and yet you return.”

“I could not stand to see you in such pain. Do not join me yet, please. Our child—“

“My child,” Loki snarled. “You left me so it is not yours. Or perhaps it is, seeing as I can no longer—“ Loki turned to bury his face into Thor’s chest, but there was nothing there.

 “A trick,” Loki spat pitifully. He curled himself back up and wrapped his arms around himself as he shook. His eyes remained open for the whole night through, hoping that perhaps Thor really would enter the tent and take him away. Take him home.

But the only person who entered the tent was Helblindi. He carried Jotun clothes for Loki and when Loki refused to move, forcibly put them on him.

“I was with child,” Loki seethed with pain clouding his eyes. “You took my child and my husband away.”

“No,” Helblindi snapped. “We took you from that place of sin. Aesir are liars, all of them. You were too blinded with love to see that. Byleistr and I had to make things right. For Jotunheim.”

“For yourselves!” Loki screamed, shoving his brother out of the tent into the hazy light of dawn. “You are the ones who have sinned. You murdered an innocent man whose only wrong was his love for me. You destroyed a king’s line and you—“ Loki pointed an accusing finger at Byleistr. “—murdered an unborn child. You both have destroyed my family.”

Byleistr obviously had not known of Loki’s condition and ran to him, but Loki grabbed a nearby dagger—his dagger that his brothers shad stolen from their bedchamber—and pointed it straight at his brother’s heart.

“Do not touch me,” he bit out, the blade quivering. “You are not my brother. Neither of you are. You are both murderers. “

Neither Helblindi nor Byleistr dared to touch him. Loki crawled onto his camel himself and rode silently until they reached home.

Farbauti stood in a white, slit skirt with a jug of water on her hip, holding Loki’s gaze for his entire approach, surveying him. The sky had turned grey with the threat of a coming storm, kicking up sand and dirt around them to form a gritty haze.  Loki dismounted from his mount and left it for one of his brothers to hitch.

“Loki,” Farbauti greeted, striding toward him.

He cut off her approach with a leer. “Your sons have killed my husband,” he snarled in a shaky voice. “And they have murdered the unborn child inside of me.”

Tears filled Farbauti’s red-brown eyes and she embraced him tightly, but Loki simply stood there, not returning it.

“I want a tent of my own. I am a guest here, no longer you or Laufey’s son. I will not sleep anywhere near the men who have slain two innocent lives.”

“Of course, darling. Oh, Loki,” his mother cried into his shoulder.

Laufey emerged from his tent with a look so furious that even Loki felt a quiver run up the length of his spine. That was saying something, considering he was not even acknowledging his own mother’s weeping.

“What have you done?” Laufey shouted at Helblindi and Byleistr.

“We have restored the family name,” Helblindi said, stepping forward.

Laufey slapped him upside the head, but it was clear he wanted to do much more than that. “Do you realize what you have done? You have made us look like savage fools! We cannot stay here now, not with Aesir knowing what you have done!”

“That prince defiled Loki,” Helblindi snarled. “What else am I to do to a man who treats my brother as a prostitute?”

Loki looked on, too detached to act on his want to kill his eldest brother. Thor had never—never—treated him like a whore. He had been Thor’s equal, one half to their whole.

Farbauti led him away to the well and stripped him down. Loki stood exposed without shame and stayed there until every last bit of what was left of his husband was washed from his skin with his mother’s worn hands. Not even the cold water could stir him.

Loki refused all food and drink and did not speak for the rest of the day. He was given a tent of his own, but the silk pillows were left ignored and he instead curled up in a soft sheepskin blanket and stared through the open tent flap at the grasslands beyond, where the flocks grazed.  He longed for the days when reading a book in the shade was his contentment. That was what he told himself at least; he truly just longed for Thor.

The tears came and went as the bitter reality began to force its way down his throat. Of course he realized he would never see Thor again. But the thought of such a desolate future, one as a used, uninterested wife of some poor Jotun who could not pay for a virgin was devastating to him. Thor’s presence would be with him always, but only enough for him to weep because of it. It would just be the phantom of what had once filled his heart with such joy.

With a steady inhale, Loki sat up. He closed the flap to his tent and brought out his most favorite wedding gift. It was the dagger Thor had kept from their first meeting, but his ever-thoughtful husband had gotten it inlaid with a mosaic of topaz, rubies, emeralds, diamonds—every jewel he could possibly desire. It was the dagger he had wanted to gouge out Byleistr’s heart with.

He sat back on his heels and placed the blade on his wrist, intending to watch the life flow from him in dark ribbons of blood. The blade was cool against his skin, but incredibly sharp. It had cut the throats of hundreds of pigs, lambs, and sick ewes. He knew it would not take much pressure.

But as he pushed the blade to his skin, he felt a shift in his belly.

The dagger dropped to the ground with only a single crimson drop on the steel. Both of Loki’s hand went to his stomach, searching for another movement along the bruised skin.

“Darling, if you yet live, show me,” Loki pleaded, fresh tears in his eyes. “Show me.”

 

He waited two hours in the stillness and then felt another tiny movement within him.

Loki burst into tears of relief this time, grinning up to the sky above as he laughed. Their child was still alive. Thor’s name would be carried on with this tiny child inside of him. He stroked his belly fondly, but his joy did not last long. Loki realized he would live a life as a single mother without any of the prowess or brute masculine build of the baby’s father. A half-orphan prince—and there was a chance Loki would die in childbirth and never see his baby at all.

But he would take that chance. He would suffer through the rest of his life with this child who would have his father’s eyes, his father’s hair, or his father’s build and raise him to be the king Thor would have been: humble yet confident, loyal and true and honest and doting.

“Servant!” he cried. “Bring me a quill and parchment. And fetch Farbauti.”

There was much left to do.


	8. Chapter 8

The swell of his belly had grown to a gentle curve while his family packed their things and gathered their livestock from the plains. He did not speak to anyone but his mother and the servants (excluding the one who had exposed his relations with Thor) and continued about his life from his tent and in the fields. He reacquainted with the mutts he had trained so long ago and found some comfort in stroking their glossy coats as he wandered the fields.

Thor was constantly on his mind. Everything reminded him of his dead husband, but mostly of the last image he had of him, lying naked on his back with pallid skin and a slitted, gaping throat. He caught the thick scent of Thor’s blood with every breeze, and each morning he woke up drenched in sweat that he always mistook for Thor’s blood until his screams brought his mother rushing in to soothe him.

 

* * *

 

He was stirring a pot of stew when he saw two mules appear on the horizon. One of the hounds started to howl, which brought Laufey from his tent. Loki left his pot, pulling his black cowl over his face a little more. He had been wearing black since he had learned that he would not be joining Thor so soon.

His black robes billowed around him in the wind as he walked toward the mules, head raised in quiet confidence.

“Loki!” Helblindi called. “What are you doing? Come back!”

Loki paid his brother no mind and continued his approach, resting a hand on his belly as if to coax his child not to listen either.  The ground was warm on his bare feet and the wind made the sunlight not so stifling, even in mourning clothes.

He smiled weakly as the riders dismounted and was soon gathered in a gentle embrace.

“Frigga,” he greeted softly, looping his arms about her slender waist. She was also dressed for mourning with a black veil and gown. Gaea embraced him next, sobbing quietly into his shoulder.

“I did not think you would come,” Loki confessed.

“Of course we would,” Gaea whispered. “You are just as much our son as…as Thor was.”

Hearing his husband’s name was like being punched in the chest, but he could handle it if it came from Thor’s mother. He closed his eyes for a moment, composing himself before pulling back.

“How…how is the child?” Frigga asked quietly, glancing down at his belly.

“Strong,” Loki replied with a small smile. “Healthy too.” He gently rubbed his slight swell, a motion that had soothed him out of his fits of deep sadness. With time, he knew he would be able to raise this child as Thor would want, in the palace of Asgard where this child—and Loki—belonged.

“Your mother is sending your things?” Gaea asked, looking behind Loki to where his mother was no doubt standing outside of the tents, watching him. Loki nodded once. Everything had been prepared.

Gaea took his hands, squeezing gently. “Come then.”

Loki turned, and sure enough, his mother stood there in a magnificent gown of pale blue silk. He could not find the ability to smile at her, but she seemed to know that. The house of Laufey had destroyed all connection with him the moment Helblindi had put a blade to Thor’s throat. Loki had not been able to sleep for a week when he realized that Thor must have woken up, but in an effort to save Loki from seeing him die he had not stirred or cried out. Instead, he had stayed quiet and pressed his nose into his husband’s hair one last time.

Loki gently swiped the moisture from his eyes and took a shaky breath.  Farbauti lifted a hand and gave him a final wave before Loki turned to the two queens.

“It is time for you to come home, Loki,” Frigga murmured.

He nodded once and mounted Frigga’s mule with the familiar pull of the sheath for his dagger against his thigh. Taking one last look at the grasslands of his once-home, Loki felt a wash of relief. He would never have his Thor again, but he would have Thor’s child, Thor’s palace, Thor’s kingdom.

That would have to be enough. 


End file.
